"How old a friend?"
"We were turned together."
Which made him a very old friend indeed, considering Jack had been turned over 860 years ago. I blew out a breath, then said, "I can drive over there tonight, if you'd prefer."
It was the last thing I actually wanted to do, but I owed Jack more than a few favors. Besides, friends that old were surely rare, even in the long-lived world of vampires.
Jack hesitated. "No, it should be all right. Armel thinks it may be a ghost of some kind. Things have been moved around or gone missing. Nothing major-just small things. He's just curious as to what is going on."
Hence the reason Jack had called me. He might be good at many things, but the one thing he couldn't do was see ghosts and souls.
Unfortunately, I could.
"Why did he call you rather than a clairvoyant or someone like that?"
"Because we're old friends, and I owe him a few favors."
Calling in the Directorate still seemed like overkill. But maybe that was why he was a long-lived vampire. "No one's broken in, I gather?"
"He believes not. He's got good security and he doesn't sleep all that much. He'd hear anyone entering his house."
Outside, a car pulled up, but the scents of wolf and bird were suddenly strong on the still air. I recognized both.
"Cole and his team have just arrived."
"Good. Once the situation there is sorted, go home and get some rest. I told Armel you'd be there at nine."
"Gee, thanks for letting me sleep in, boss."
"He wanted you there at six," Jack said dryly, "so be thankful for small mercies."
"Why so damn early?"
"He doesn't believe in wasting good daylight."
"He's a vampire. There's no such thing as good daylight, is there?"
"There is when you're old enough to enjoy it."
"Which neither you nor he is, so why the hurry?"
"Just because we can't play in it doesn't mean we can't enjoy it." Jack's voice was amused. "And be careful when you're there. Armel will flirt with anything that breathes, but he's partial to redheads."
"I've already got two old vampires in my life. I don't need another."
He laughed and signed off. I touched my ear to turn off the voice part of the com-unit, then pushed open one of the doors and said, "Cole, I'm down this way."
A second later, he appeared.
"So much for me hoping to save your pretty ass," he said dryly. His gray overalls were still blood-splattered from the previous crime scene and his silvery hair was darkened with sweat. "You just love spoiling my fun, don't you?"
I grinned. "Totally. Especially if it means me not laying somewhere half dead."
I looked beyond him as the similarly garbed Dobbs came into view. Like Cole, he was armed, his laser humming softly in the silence. Unlike Cole, he wasn't relaxing; his gaze constantly moved through the shadows. I was betting Dobbs could fight every bit as well as Cole. It was evident in the quiet way he moved. He reminded me of a predator about to strike.
I met Cole's gaze, noticing the sweat staining the collar of his overalls and the quick puff of his breath on the night air. "What, did you run here rather than taking the car or something?"
"Basically, yes." He stopped and swiped a hand at the sweat running down his cheek. "Well, I ran and Dobbs flew. Dusty collected the gear and car first."